


Flicker

by apocalyvse



Series: Sparrowverse [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon Compliant, F/M, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), do I actually know the whole plot yet?, no, so maybe not totally canon compliant, there may be some enemies to friends to lovers, you'll find out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2020-07-20 05:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19986505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocalyvse/pseuds/apocalyvse
Summary: The eyes of the world are on the Avengers after Johannesburg and Sokovia, two major battles with one very large death toll. Not that Imogen cares. She's got her own war to fight, right here on the streets of New York, one the Avengers aren't interested in. She might even make some friends along the way.





	1. Friday Night

**Author's Note:**

> welcome! comment, please! I have nothing more to say!

It started with a party invitation, hand delivered to her by an awkward-looking Stark intern, who didn’t speak a word to her the whole five seconds he was at her door. Imogen wondered what had prompted them to ever hire him as he hightailed it down the stairs, and if this was a regular sort of task for a Stark intern, or if Tony was messing with her. He liked messing with her, on the rare occasion that he remembered she existed.

Imogen shut the door and opened up the invitation. It was a black piece of paper, the time and date and address typed out in comic sans, in letters that were almost too big for the page. It was for the same party that invitations had already been handed out all over Avengers Tower - for a ‘celebration of the Avenger’s efforts’, which really just meant a party for the sake of a party. Especially since the most recent mission she knew about that the Avengers had been on was little more than a PR stunt in Africa somewhere. They hadn’t even taken their whole team, just Iron Man and Captain America and a few of the newer members that Imogen didn’t know so well. Some of them, she’d never even met.

And Tony Stark wanted her to go to a party for them, so much that he’d printed off this dumb attempt at an invitation and signed it at the bottom. She laughed to herself and threw the paper to the side. She didn’t go to his parties unless Clint dragged her along, and Clint had been out of the country for three weeks now (SHIELD business, he’d said, and little more. She wasn’t privy to SHIELD’s movements anymore).

She’d forgotten about the party by the next day, when her phone rang in the middle of the afternoon while she was out running. She remembered it pretty quickly once saw Tony Stark’s caller ID, and hit ignore immediately. He rang again, and then once more after that for good measure.

She gave up on the fourth call, sick of listening to her own ringtone. “What?” she snapped into the phone the moment she answered the call, before Stark could have the first word.

“Hello to you too,” the voice of Tony Stark replied, completely unfazed by her unfriendly greeting. “Do they teach kids any manners these days, or do you just always answer the phone like that?”

“Aren’t you famous for having absolutely no manners at all?” Imogen shot back, dropping her pace to a walk. She could use a break anyway, if she had to.

“I’m rich. I’m allowed to be rude,” Tony insisted. His logic seemed flawed, but he didn’t give Imogen a chance to question it. “Anyway, I just need to know if you’re coming tomorrow. It’s important.”

“To your _party_?” she questioned, trying to figure out why exactly it was imperative she come to this stupid _celebration_.

“No, to my funeral,” Tony said dryly. “I hope you’re recording this _fascinating_ conversation, because it’s the last time you’ll ever talk to me, and I know how much you love the sound of my voice.”

“Wow, that’s tragic,” she replied, not in the least bit sympathetic. “You should have told me earlier, I would have sent flowers. I saw some nice ones in the supermarket the other day.”

“Touching,” he said and then tired quickly of the banter. “Really though, party. Coming? Yes?”

She sighed into the phone, already hearing an argument coming. “I don’t come to parties, Stark,” she told him flatly, like being blunt could deter him at all.

Predictably, he steamrolled over her immediately. “Yes you do,” he insisted. “You came to the Christmas party. And that other boring thing that Happy did last month.”

“Team dinner?” she asked, and rolled her eyes as she stopped at a set of traffic lights. “I was paid to go to that. By _your company_. How do you even know that anyway?”

“One day you will realise that I know everything. And my computer knows everything else.”

“Not creepy at all.”

“I’m trying to improve your social life, not selling your social security number online, god.”

She huffed in annoyance and crossed the street, turning towards home once she reached the other side. She’d run far enough today. “My social doesn’t need improving,” she said in no uncertain terms. “And definitely not from _you_. I’ve already learnt that lesson.”

“Come _on_ , Varsity, give me a break.” She heard something clink and whir in the background, and then Stark grunted as he lifted something with a long _creeeeak_. “Only party I’ll ever invite you to, I promise. Come over and we can pinky swear. You just gotta come to this one thing.”

“ _Why?_ ” she asked.

“What d’you mean why?” he replied, sounding genuinely confused.

“Why do I absolutely _have_ to come to this party?” she expanded, annoyed at having to explain herself.

“Oh.” Another bang and then a grinding noise. She didn’t even _want_ to know what he was doing. “I’ve got someone you have to meet. You’ve got lots in common, you’re both rude, neither of you will come to my parties. It’s a match made in Heaven.”

“A match made in Heaven,” she repeated flatly.

“You don’t trust me?” Tony asked, feigning hurt.

“No,” she replied very definitely. “I really don’t.”

“You are _breaking my heart_ ,” he told her emphatically, and then swore as the sound of glass breaking filtered down the phone line. “Hey Pidgeon, I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

There was a long pause while she considered her options, which were pretty limited unless she wanted to put some serious effort into avoiding this party. There wasn’t much you could do to avoid Tony Stark when he was determined to annoy you. “Yeah,” she sighed finally, relenting. “Alright.”

She could practically hear his smug expression down the phone line. “Nice doing business with you, Varsity,” he said and then hung up, before she could even start a snappy reply.

Rolling her eyes again, Imogen tucked her phone into her pocket and broke into a jog again, covering the ground with a steady, regular stride. Just two days of this nonsense, one night out to appease him, and Tony Stark would leave her alone again. She could do that. She’d had worse weekends.

Imogen was starting to like regular life, much to her surprise. It had been a year and a half since she’d left SHIELD and HYDRA and destroyed INTEL, and nine months since any kind of spy had come looking for her. It was nice, training for fun rather than actual fights, and not having to look over her shoulder every time she left her apartment. She hadn’t really realised what she was missing out on until she’d actually left all the spy stuff behind.

There were still loose ends out there, of course. Will, her brother, was still missing, having disappeared before JARVIS could come back online that one time he’d managed to lay siege to Avengers Tower. He hadn’t tried again since, nor had he surfaced anywhere else. And Lena had talked her way out of incarceration, because apparently she was far more cunning than Imogen had given her credit for. Currently, she was living in a mansion in California, making money off of not talking about how she’d been ‘kidnapped’ and ‘tortured’ by INTEL. As far as Imogen was concerned, she could take her money and stay there with her false story and her burnt face.

And then of course, there was the ice that was always climbing up and down her fingers and freezing things she didn’t want frozen. She’d never wanted any kind of superpower, and now that she had one, she wanted it even less. That problem was currently being tackled by Stark Industries, who had discreetly hired a pair of scientists specialising in biology and chemistry who were (in Imogen’s opinion) _way_ too excited to work on the project. She’d spent _hours_ with them so far, with no success – she had no more control than before, and they hadn’t found any way to remove the effects of whatever Lena had done to her.

It didn’t take her long to reach home once she was able to run without distraction. She’d even almost put Tony Stark and the party she didn’t want to go to out of her mind; until she stepped in her front door and her phone started ringing again. Pulling a face, she threw her keys on the kitchen bench and answered. “Hello?” she said without looking at caller ID and headed for the stairs.

“Imogen!” Happy Hogan’s voice replied, both relieved and mildly stressed at the same time, a talent that only he possessed. She was fairly sure the man was going to have a heart attack before he was 60. “Listen, I had you down for a shift tomorrow night, but I just got a call saying you won’t be working, and I just need to know-”

“Yeah,” she said, cutting him off before he could work himself up into too much of a sweat. Working security at Avengers Tower was a decent job most days, but when she had to take calls from a flustered Happy…well. People weren’t really her strong suit. “Apparently I have a party to go to that night, so you’ll have to find someone else to work.”

“But I don’t have anyone else,” Happy insisted, very put out by her refusal to fix his problem. “I’ve got double staff on already, and you know what it’s like to try and convince the junior team to work on a Friday night.”

“And I don’t want to go to a party,” she said, reaching the top of the stairs. “But Tony Stark keeps insisting I go, so you’ll just have to figure it out.”

“Wait, what?” he asked in surprise. “What do you _mean_ , Tony wants you to come to the party, why would he-”

“It’s a long story, Happy,” she replied and sat on her bed to pull off her shoes. “Just call Kase and tell him you’ll buy him M&P’s pizza if he’ll work. He’ll do anything for their pizza.”

There was a pause. “Okay,” he relented, though he still sounded pretty uptight about it. Happy wasn’t so relaxed when he didn’t feel like he was in charge. “You’d better tell me the full story on Monday morning though.”

“Mhm,” Imogen hummed in reply without really thinking about it. He wouldn’t get any gossip from her anyway. “Goodbye Happy,” she said when he didn’t start on anything else, and waited only three seconds for his return farewell before hanging up on him in the middle of his ‘goodbye’.

She had a performance review in a couple of weeks, she remembered as she turned on the shower. She could already imagine the things he’d be bringing up after _that_ phone call.

\-----

The party was held on the upper floors of Avengers Tower, up in the big, open lounge and games space that was most frequently used by the Avengers themselves. When she arrived, there was already a crowd of people in the lobby, where it seemed a secondary gathering was taking place. A lot of people in Avengers costumes, she noticed as she passed through, and several little groups who had dressed more sensibly but looked very perturbed at still not being able to get in.

A group of girls dressed more to go clubbing than anything else eyeballed Imogen as she squeezed past them, lips curling at her jeans and leather jacket look, and she glared right back until she was past them, and almost at the elevators.

Happy himself was running security on this side of the room, she found with mild surprise. He gave her his most perturbed expression as she approached, and lifted the tablet in his hands.

“Name?” he asked her pointedly, fixing his eyes on his tablet screen.

“I literally work for you,” Imogen replied blankly.

“Nope,” Happy said. “I have to do this properly, or there’s no point doing it at all. _Name_ , please.”

She rolled her eyes and gave up. “Imogen Haylock.”

He searched his digital list of names, tapped the screen several times, and then stepped out of the way so that she could enter the elevator. “Have a good evening,” he said in parting, all stiff and formal and absolutely ridiculous. She could only shake her head as she joined the group of people already waiting to go up.

Two more people entered the elevator after her, and then they took the short ascent up 80 floors. Imogen spent the whole ride trying not to listen to a pair of women behind her who were wondering out loud if Captain America would be there.

There was a good crowd of people gathered upstairs, though not quite as bad as the throngs that inhabited the lobby. Tony was nowhere to be seen, so she went to the bar first for a drink to fill her hands with, and then wandered up to the deck that overlooked the room on one side and the city on the other.

She lingered there for a few minutes, idly scanning the crowd, but there was no sign of Tony or any other kind of special guest she was supposed to meet. Most of the room was just rich friends of Stark and employees of SI, and a smattering of other people who had gotten invites one way or another. She vaguely knew the faces from SI, having passed them all in the hallways at least once, but the rest of the crowd was a sea of strangers. And no Tony. She sighed, and leant on the railing.

“You look lost,” a female voice said behind her. Imogen visibly jumped and whipped around to face them, almost spilling her drink. Wanda Maximoff stood before her, a tall, dark European girl who she’d managed to never even catch sight of in the six months since Wanda had come back from Sokovia with the Avengers.

Imogen didn’t know much about the girl; she came from Sokovia, obviously, and she had some freaky kind of powers that let her do all sorts of cool things. She’d been showing up more and more often on Avengers missions lately, and the media _loved_ it; the Scarlet Witch, they called her, and wrote story after story about her abilities.

She didn’t spend much time at the Tower, for whatever reason. The Avengers had a facility upstate now but even so, most of them still came down to New York regularly for their own reasons. Wanda Maximoff did not. She stayed upstate almost exclusively.

“I’m looking for someone,” Imogen replied, not friendly nor unfriendly, and cast her eyes over the crowd below.

The Maximoff girl joined her at the edge of the balcony, looking down. “Who are you looking for?” she asked, and there was a strange sort of look in her eyes that gave Imogen the feeling she wasn’t really seeing the crowd at all.

“Tony Stark,” she said, and the focus returned to the other girl’s eyes like the snap of a rubber band.

“You know Stark?” Wanda asked, and Imogen tried not to be offended at the mild surprise in her voice.

“Yeah,” she affirmed. “I’m a friend of Clint – Hawkeye. You’re Wanda, right?”

Wanda’s face filled with recognition. “Yes!” she replied and smiled. “He talks about you sometimes. You are Imogen?”

“I am, yeah,” Imogen said, and wondered at the fact that Clint talked about her to other people; to other _Avengers_. Even now, it hadn’t really sunk in that she was only living about three steps away from all the Avengers drama and the new SHIELD and everything she kept trying to pretend she’d left behind.

“Stark is at the bar now, I think,” Wanda said, and pointed across the room. Sure enough, she had picked Tony out of the crowd, dressed casually and leaning across the bar as he gave the tender instructions.

“I have to go,” the other girl continued, almost apologetic.

“Thanks for the tip,” Imogen said in reply and pushed off the railing. The other girl smiled and then walked away, disappearing between a group of people in mere seconds.

Imogen went the other way, down the stairs and across the room to the bar. Stark was still there, nursing a scotch and watching the crowd he’d put together mingle. She leant against the bar pointedly, right in his like of vision, so that he absolutely couldn’t miss her.

“Pidgeon!” he said brightly. “I was starting to think Happy had stopped you at the front door.”

She snorted in derision. “Happy only _thinks_ he’s in control of everything here.”

“See,” Tony said and finished his drink in one mouthful. “This is why you’re on varsity, and Happy isn’t.”

“You made Happy Head Of Security,” Imogen pointed out as a nameless bartender who she might recognise as an intern came over to refill Tony’s glass. “How is that not varsity?”

“Happy’s a nerd,” Tony said, and then received his scotch back. “Anyway. You, Varsity, are going to save my life this week. Come with me.” He took his glass and stood up abruptly, wandering away.

“What?” she called after him, and swore as she put her own drink down and chased after him, darting through the small crowd. Stark didn’t listen to her, not even when she caught up to him, meandering aimlessly through the crowd.

“What do you mean?” she demanded, striding along next to him.

“Over here,” he said and turned left, through a wide archway and into a smaller sitting area adjacent to a pool table. There was a small group of younger people here, immersed in a lively game of pool on one side of the room and deep discussion on the other. In the middle of it all, sitting at the end of one sofa looking bored, a boy with a shock of silver hair watched the pool game with a scowl on his face. What, exactly, he hated about pool was unclear, as was the reason for his distinct lack of friends.

“Maximoff!” Stark called, his voice loud and sharp, and over the babble of the crowd, the boy heard him and looked up. He was only slightly less disgusted at the sight of Tony Stark than he was at the game, according to his expression as he got up off the couch and walked across the room, dragging his feet. _What had Tony done to him?_ Imogen wondered, slightly amused.

“What?” he asked as he drew to a halt. His voice surprised Imogen; he had a Sokovian accent, like Wanda. The same last name too, actually. Were they related? Siblings? She hadn’t heard anything about a second Sokovian Avenger.

“Okay, first of all, it’s a party, not a funeral, so lighten up,” Tony said. The boy scoffed. “Second, this is Imogen, your new best friend.” He pointed at Imogen. The boy looked at her with fresh interest, and then dismissed her offhandedly.

“I don’t need a new friend,” he announced, all attitude.

Tony stared at him for a second, and then turned to Imogen, very resolutely ignoring him. “Imogen, this is Wanda’s brother, Pietro…you’ve met Wanda, right?” Imogen nodded. “She got all the manners in the family, obviously. And the hair.”

“Obviously,” Imogen agreed, stuffing her hands in her pockets and watching Pietro’s face darken.

“I don’t need American friends,” he spat at Tony. “Not from _you_.” He stormed off then, brushing past Tony as he went. Tony didn’t even react, just let him go, looking mildly amused.

“Is _that_ who you told me I had to meet?” Imogen asked when he was gone, rounding on Stark.

Tony shrugged and took a good mouthful of his scotch. “I might have exaggerated a bit yesterday,” he replied easily, infuriatingly upbeat.

“Why did we absolutely _have_ to meet again?” she questioned, not particularly happy at having been talked into coming to this dumb party just to be insulted by a stranger.

“Ah.” Tony looked uncomfortable suddenly. “He’s staying here for two weeks and I need someone to keep him distracted until he leaves. He doesn’t like me, and I can’t work while he’s hanging around messing up my stuff.”

“So send him back upstate,” Imogen suggested with not a hint of sympathy for him.

“If only it were that simple, Deep Thought. He’s only _here_ because he’s currently suspended from the base _there_. And if he goes anywhere else someone’s going to ask him for a visa or something, and who knows what trouble he’ll get into after that. Kid’s a magnet for disaster, just like you.”

She stared at him for a second, trying to pick a place to start unpacking that. “Does he _have_ a visa?” was the first thing to burst out of her mouth, though it was not the question she had intended to ask.

“He might _technically_ be classed as an illegal immigrant,” Tony admitted.

“ _What_?” she replied, and almost laughed at how ridiculous it was. “The Avengers are sneaking people into the country now?”

“Hey, it’s nothing SHIELD hasn’t been doing for years anyway,” he said defensively, and then slung an arm around her shoulders and guided her back out into the main room. “And I’ve _tried_ to get him a visa or a passport or something. It’s not my fault he refuses to reside in this country legally.”

“He sounds like an idiot,” Imogen said very decisively, and caught a glimpse of Pietro between the crowd. He was on the other side of the room now, with his sister. It looked like they were arguing. Tony steered her in the opposite direction.

“Don’t worry,” he said as they walked. “I’ve got a hundred other people you can meet, and they’re all here _legally_.”


	2. Built Up, Broken Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hang out, ask questions, be friends, see chapter updates and other fun stuff on my writing tumblr @apocalyvse! (or my main, @swiftly-heart!). Thanks for reading!

It was only at 10pm, when her phone buzzed in her pocket, that Imogen realised how long she’d stayed at the Tower, immersed in the bubbling crowd that Tony had planted her into the midst of before disappearing.

Tuning out of the conversation around her (not that she’d really been listening anyway; she was currently sat with a bunch of SI employees while they shared crazy office stories), she pulled out her phone and frowned at the text. It was from a blocked number and listed only an address and the words _come now_. At the bottom, it was signed with the initials _RR_ – well, she assumed they were initials. She didn’t know what else _RR_ could mean.

 _Maybe FRIDAY would know_ , she thought and got up from her chair, leaving just as the group broke out into laughter. None of them really noticed her leave. Imogen didn’t care; she had other things to do now.

She was out of the crowd and waiting for the elevator when she heard footsteps behind her. She glanced behind her casually, expecting any random person…and then did a double-take when she realised that it was Pietro, the boy she’d met earlier. The _I don’t need any friends_ one. Well, two could play at that game. She turned back to the elevator and resolved to ignore him.

He came up to stand beside her anyway, shuffling his feet like standing still was a real chore for him. “Are you leaving?” he asked when she didn’t offer him a greeting.

“Yes,” she said tersely, wishing the elevator would arrive quickly. “Didn’t think you were even here still.” She hadn’t seen him since he’d brushed Tony off five seconds into their meeting, and that was two or more hours ago. She’d assumed he had gone off somewhere else to sulk. He seemed like the type to do that.

“I wasn’t,” he replied. “But I came back to find you to say I am sorry.”

“You don’t have to-” she began, but he shook his head and cut her off.

“I think I do,” he said. “I want to; I didn’t meant the things I said, I just… _Stark_ , I don’t like, you see?”

She didn’t really see at all, but in the end she didn’t have to; as he finished speaking, the elevator arrived to save her from the conversation. “You don’t like Americans, I got it,” she said as she stepped into the elevator. “Have fun in New York.” He looked frustrated, but he didn’t try to stop the doors from closing between them, or to say anything to correct her.

Once she was alone, Imogen hit the button for the ground floor and then slumped against the wall, heaving a sigh of relief. One bullet dodged.

Now; the other one.

“FRIDAY?” she asked the empty elevator.

“Good evening, Imogen,” the AI responded from everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. “Can I help you with something?”

“I just got a text from a blocked number,” she said and pulled out her phone again. “Can you tell me who it’s from?”

“I can trace the origin of the message back to the address listed in it,” the AI responded. “There is no identity attached to this number. The letters at the end of the message seem to be someone’s initials. Do you know anyone who has these initials?”

“No,” Imogen muttered and racked her brains. She didn’t know very many people at all really, and no one had the initials _RR._

“Information from your file suggests you know Ruby Radford. This matches the criteria.”

“Yeah, but-” _Ruby_. “She’s dead.”

There was a respectful kind of pause before the computer responded again. “Is it possible that she may have survived?”

“Um-” For the first time since it had happened, Imogen considered the possibility. It was pretty unlikely – she hadn’t _seen_ Ruby die, but she’d been bleeding out quick when Imogen had been dragged from the room, and INTEL wouldn’t have done much to save her. Lena had told them to ‘dispose’ of her. Dispose was something you did with a body, not with a living person.

All evidence said Ruby must be dead. But despite herself, she wondered.

“How would I find out if they actually killed her or not?” she asked the AI. The elevator slid gracefully to a halt, but the doors didn’t open yet.

“I could search the security footage I have saved from the location where she died?” FRIDAY suggested. “There is no footage from inside the building, but I have security footage from adjacent buildings and a carpark, and traffic cameras nearby.”

“Okay,” Imogen said, nodding to herself. “Do that.”

There was a moment of silence. She leant against the wall of the elevator and picked at a loose thread on her sleeve while she waited.

“I have one record that might be of use,” FRIDAY replied finally. “On the 4th of June, at 1:22am, a vehicle left INTEL’s premises and proceeded to the Mill Point Pier. Most cameras on the pier experienced interference while the vehicle was there, but I found one storefront camera that shows four men carrying seven bodies onto the pier over the course of an hour. No bodies were ever recovered by police in the area.”

Well, that _sounded_ like the sort of sloppy security work INTEL would do. And the date was right too; the morning after hers and Ruby’s failed escape attempt. But the body count…it didn’t add up. Imogen remembered clearly, they had only successfully fought five INTEL agents that day, and killed three. Plus Ruby made four – so who were the other three? Even if they’d managed to kill all five of the group they’d fought, or Lena had killed the remaining two later, there was still one body too many. It made no sense.

“You’re _sure_ it was seven?” Imogen asked, just in case.

“I can count, Miss Haylock,” the AI responded, in a remarkably good attempt at sarcasm. “Seven bodies were removed from the vehicle.”

Imogen looked down at her phone again, opened up the text and reread it several times over. _Could_ Ruby be alive? Or was it a trap, someone trying to lure her in with false hopes?

“If you want to find out who sent the message,” FRIDAY interjected, like she could read minds. “I think you will have to go there and find out yourself.”

“And if it’s a trap?” Imogen asked sarcastically, and shoved the phone back into her pocket.

“I can monitor your phone if you like,” FRIDAY offered. “You only have to say my name and I will assist you however I can.”

Imogen took a deep breath. Go to a random address and walk into a possible trap with only a computer for backup?

Why the _hell_ not.

“Okay,” she agreed, glancing up at the ceiling like something there might reassure her. “I’m gonna go.”

“I will keep an eye on things for you,” FRIDAY assured her. The elevator moved down another floor. “Enjoy your evening, Imogen.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Imogen murmured sarcastically as the doors opened and spat her back out into the bubbling activity of the lobby.

\-----

Two subway stops and a short walk from Avengers Tower, the address in her phone led her to an empty building site on a street of half-destroyed buildings and empty lots. This whole area of town was like that, still trying to recover from the alien attack several years ago. Cities weren’t built overnight, it seemed. It was a good place to hide if you were trying not to be seen anyway; the whole street was more or less abandoned, with no buildings stable enough for business or living.

Imogen didn’t hesitate to slip through a small gap in the fencing, feeling uncomfortably exposed by the glare of a bright streetlamp that stood right next to her. Her only comfort was FRIDAY, tucked away in her pocket, and the gun she’d hidden under her shirt, fetched from her car before she’d made the short trek over here. Inside the fence, the place was blessedly dark, the light from the street throwing weird shadows and highlights against the second floor of the building and its missing windows.

She entered slowly, one hand on her gun just in case she needed it. There were no interior walls, just great concrete columns and a staircase going up to the second floor, off-set to the left. Imogen couldn’t fathom the intended use of the building, but at least it made it easy to see that there was no one in her immediately vicinity, and definitely no team of HYDRA agents crammed just inside the door. The only place to hide in here was-

“You’re _late_ ,” a voice that she definitely recognised said, echoing around the room, and then a tall, dark-skinned girl stepped out from behind one of the pillars, a Starkpad clutched to her chest.

Imogen’s hand dropped from her gun. “ _Ruby_?” she exclaimed, not quite able to believe her own eyes, and sated at her like on further observation, she might turn out to be a ghost or something. “How-”

“Shh.” Ruby pressed a finger to her lips. “Up here.” She beckoned with the same finger, and then led the way upstairs, only looking back once to make sure Imogen was following. Imogen didn’t question her, just let her lead, still struggling to reconcile the last time she’d seen Ruby – desperate, dying – with this _very alive_ girl here.

The second floor was just like the first, except with less stairs and more windows, and several stacks of building materials up one end. Ruby put her Starkpad down on a big pile of wooden planks, next to a faded green canvas bag that was stuffed to overflowing. “Ruby,” Imogen said again, pulling herself together. “How are you alive?”

The other girl pulled a water bottle out of her bag, took a drink, and put it back. “Hello to you too,” she said when she was done, but it was mild, and there was no real venom to her voice.

Imogen brushed it off easily. “Sorry,” she said dryly in reply. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re not _dead_ , like I thought you were for the last like, two years.”

Ruby considered it. “That’s fair, I guess,” she allowed. “It’s kind of…random. I know.”

“ _How_ , Ruby?” Imogen pressed, unsure how else to word it. “Where have you been?”

For a long moment, Ruby stared at her, playing with the ends of her sleeves nervously. “It’s a long story,” she said finally. “You sure you want to hear it?”

“Yes,” Imogen said without hesitation. Ruby sighed.

“After they separated us,” she said slowly, shoving her hands into her pockets like she could hide in it. “They took me out to a van or something. They were going to dump my body, I think; I don’t really remember. I was in the back of the van, and then there was a fight, and then a man picked me up…” She kicked at the dust on the floor. “I don’t really remember anything else until I woke up in a hospital in Portland like two weeks later and found out most of INTEL was gone.”

“Who saved you?” Imogen asked.

Ruby shrugged. “I don’t know,” she admitted freely. “A man. Tall, scary. Has a lot of weapons. He’s been following me around, I think, but I can’t catch him and he never shows up on cameras or anything unless he wants to.”

“Okay,” Imogen said, though it wasn’t really okay. The whole thing made no sense. She trusted that it was true – she didn’t really know Ruby _well_ , but lying wasn’t the sort of thing she would do. Who then, was this man though? And why was he saving a random girl and then disappearing, not even sticking around to explain himself?

“It’s weird, I know,” Ruby said. “That’s why I came here. I need your help.”

“You – what?” Imogen stared at her again, surprised. “My _help_?”

“Yeah,” Ruby affirmed, like it wasn’t so strange. Imogen was flabbergasted. No one had ever come specifically seeking her help for something before, not really. Not when there were Avengers out there, or people who were better at their jobs than she was, or who were _nicer_ than her.

“I need you to help me find the man that saved me,” Ruby continued. “And then we need him to help us get rid of INTEL, once and for all.”

“INTEL is already gone,” Imogen said slowly. “And I can’t help you find a man you know nothing about.”

“INTEL is still around as long as Lena is,” Ruby argued. “She’d been building a small army in California for the last year. And she’ll come this way sooner or later, looking for me and you. For someone to blame for all her problems.”

“Well that’s… _great_ ,” Imogen commented, and wondered why no-one from the Avengers or the new SHIELD had noticed this.

“We have to stop her,” Ruby insisted. “She won’t leave us alone until we do.”

The words left a bad taste in Imogen’s mouth. She _really_ didn’t want to have to go after Lena or anything; she’d rather just stay here than go and pick a fight with INTEL or HYDRA or whatever else wanted to rear its ugly head too close to her for comfort. “I don’t do that anymore,” she told Ruby, trying to convince herself that she could just walk away from this conversation.

“I know,” Ruby replied. “You have a job, and you live in Brooklyn. While I’m being chased across the country by INTEL and whatever other weirdos think they can use me. I just want to be normal too, Imogen. But I can’t be normal until INTEL goes away.”

That one stung a bit. “I know the Avengers,” Imogen suggested. “We can go-”

“No,” Ruby said immediately. “No Avengers.”

“ _What_?” Imogen asked in surprise. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to get caught up in all that stuff. I just want to do this one thing, and then I can go home, and see my parents, and be normal, and no one will ever know I can do...y’know, _stuff_.” She gestured aimlessly with her hands. Imogen got the idea.

“So,” Imogen said slowly, when Ruby was done. “Instead of telling the Avengers, or SHIELD, you want me to help you find some random guy that’s been stalking you, and then convince him to help us fight a small army?”

Ruby shrugged. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but yeah.”

“That’s a terrible plan,” Imogen told her straight, ignoring the frown that creased Ruby’s face as she said it. “Almost as bad as the plan that almost got you killed.”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Ruby asked, annoyed. Imogen had hit a nerve, apparently.

“Yeah, _do_ you have any better ideas?”

The voice echoed up the concrete stairwell behind them, bouncing cheerfully around the hollow space they stood in. Both girls froze. Imogen’s stomach dropped as she remembered that they were on the second floor, with only that one stairwell leading down. _Why_ had she come up here again?

The man that had spoken took his time climbing the stairs. When he appeared, he did so dressed in light tactical gear with a gun swinging casually from his hand. “I suggest that you don’t try to run,” he said, a hint of a British accent to his words. “I don’t really need you alive. There’s no escape anyway – I’ve got a team circling the building.”

“Who are you?” Imogen asked, eyeing the gun. He wasn’t pointing it at them, but did hold it with the sort of ease that suggested he would easily have a bullet in them if they tried to make a break for any of the pillars around the big, empty floor that could give them cover (or, god forbid, the _staircase_ , which was so far away now it was a dream).

“Alex Blackwell, at your service.” He grinned lazily, well aware that he had them trapped like rats. “Well, actually, I’m here to escort you to our great and fearless leader, so I suppose it is someone else’s service.” He looked at them expectantly, waiting for them to laugh, and huffed impatiently when they didn’t. “Unless you hacked our accounts _to_ be taken in by HYDRA. In which case, I’m all too happy to assist.”

“You’re so helpful,” Imogen said dryly. “ _What_ exactly did we do to you again?”

“I think you know what you-” He stopped midsentence as he went flying across the room and into one of the pillars that held the place up. There was a loud _crack_ as he hit it, and then his body crumpled to the floor.

Imogen spun round to stare at Ruby, who was standing stock-still in shock, a hand covering her mouth like she couldn’t quite believe what she’d done. The man had mentioned hacking. That sounded like a Ruby problem. “Why are HYDRA here?” she demanded loudly.

“I, um…” Ruby started and then stopped, shaking herself. “I hacked into their bank accounts? They must have noticed-”

“Of course they noticed!” Imogen said, and glanced over at the man on the ground just in case. He was still lifeless. Dead, probably. He’d hit the pillar _hard_. “They’re HYDRA! If you want to be normal, you don’t go and mess around with HYDRA!”

“C-can we just get out of here?” Ruby asked, and took two steps towards the stairs. Imogen jumped forward and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back just as quickly.

“HYDRA are all down there, idiot,” she said, and towed the other girl towards the back of the building. There were several unfinished windows there, just gaps in the wall that no one had gotten around to covering up yet. She could see scaffolding outside, only just catching the light from the street on the other side of the room; now, she shoved Ruby through the window and onto the narrow walkway just as she heard boots marching up the stairs.

Ruby glanced back as she climbed out, at the slumped shape of Alex Blackwell behind them. “I…did I _kill_ him?” she asked as Imogen climbed through after her.

“Probably,” Imogen replied shortly, landing in a crouch on the scaffold. A single bullet followed her out a moment later, whistling through the air above their heads. “Could you do it again to the guy shooting at us?” she asked urgently, as she pushed Ruby along the walkway, towards the corner of the building.

“U-uh. Maybe…I don’t want to…” Ruby didn’t seem sure of her answer, probably because she was still trying to catch up on what was happened as Imogen pushed her bodily along the scaffolding.

A bullet ripped through the wood at Ruby’s feet. She reared back in fear, falling into Imogen and knocking them both askew. Somewhere in the confusion Imogen managed to get a hand wrapped around the back of Ruby’s shirt and drag her down and back against the building, out of sight of the shooter below.

“Stop!” another one shouted. He was following them along the scaffolding, gun trained on Imogen’s back.

“Him. Now. Do it.” Imogen hissed at Ruby, too scared to even look back at him. “He’s a bad guy. You’re only helping people by getting rid of him.”

Ruby’s face screwed up in concentration as she raised her hand. For a moment nothing happened – then, with a swipe of her hand, the man on the scaffold went flying sideways, over the railing and down to the ground a floor below.

“Nice.” Imogen manoeuvred around her, leading the way this time and dragging Ruby along behind her. Another shot flew past their heads and into the concrete wall next to them. Instead of flattening herself to the walkway and whimpering like Imogen was expecting, Ruby wrenched her arm from the other girl’s grip and leant over the side of the walkway to gesture again. There was a strangled cry from down below. Ruby pressed herself back against the wall, breathing heavily.

Imogen stood slowly, moving her eyes over every inch of the ground below. No shooters remained, so far as she could see; just the two Ruby had taken down. One was groaning loudly right below them, his leg sticking out at an odd angle. The other was over by the fence, unusually still.

Quickly and easily, she pulled Ruby to her feet, and then scrambled down the scaffolding, landing gracefully on both feet in its shadow below. The man with the broken leg had dropped his gun and she picked it up and threw it away into a bush on the other side of the block. Only then did she realise Ruby hadn’t come down, and was still frozen on the first step of the climb. She was clinging to the metal frame so hard her knuckles were white, staring at the guy on the ground between them.

“Hurry up!” Imogen called, as loudly as she dared. HYDRA came in teams of at least ten, and they had only disposed of three so far.

“I-I-” Ruby didn’t get to finish – a gunshot cracked up on her level of the building and snapped her into action. As she hurled herself down to the next step, another man rounded the corner on the ground, appearing almost on top of Imogen. She spun and pulled out her own gun, but he was _too_ close and it was a wild shot. The gun was slapped out of her hands almost at the same time as she pulled the trigger, falling back into the dirt.

She ducked under his fist and brought her own back up to his chin as she rose. His head snapped back painfully at the force of her whole body crashing into it. Her foot came up next, heel driving into his stomach and he stumbled back a step. Silently, she thanked Clint for his enforced training program.

The man began to rally, raising his fists again. Ruby landed on his head before he could get a swing in, and they went down in a writhing mess of limbs. Somehow, she managed to kick him in the face, and then she started punching, with no form but plenty of enthusiasm. Or fear. Either way, it worked.

Not that they had time for that. Assured that he wouldn’t be back on his feet any time soon, Imogen dragged Ruby off him, grabbing his gun as she did so. “We need to get out of here,” she said as Ruby righted herself. “This way.” She took the lead, gun ready, and headed the way their last opponent had come, moving as quickly as she dared. She would have loved nothing more than to run, as fast and as far as she could, but that was a good way to get yourself shot in the back. Even _Clint_ wasn’t that stupid.

There was another man at the end of the alley. She shot him in the leg before he could shoot her, and he dropped like a stone. Ruby’s foot in his face ensured he would stay there. It was a short dash to the gap in the fence, and then they were almost home free.

_Almost._

Three of the remaining five agents were watching the street. As soon as the girls came out into the open they appeared; one from a car across the street, the others from the shadows of nearby buildings.

Ruby, who appeared to have reached the end of her bravery, took one wild-eyed look at them, and bolted in a blind panic, flying down the sidewalk amidst a maelstrom of bullets. All three turned to shoot at her, and as much as she hated the whole situation, Imogen took the opportunity to turn and sprint in the other direction.

She got a whole three seconds of grace before the bullets started flying around her too. Not daring to look back to see where they were or if Ruby had made it, she covered her head and made herself as small as she could, pushing herself to break-neck pace. Her heart raced along ahead of her, and her breath came in sharp gasps. After the first intersection, she swung left without stopping and almost fell; as she righted herself, she heard someone curse and stumble behind her, and chanced a look over her shoulder.

Only one, Gun in hand, but running too hard to get off a proper shot. She still had one of their guns in _her_ hand, she realised suddenly. The grip was warm between her fingers. She’d been clinging to it tightly without even realising it.

She got off three desperate shots over her shoulder as she fell. They all missed, but the man dropped back. One slammed into the body of a passing car, making the driver swerve and almost crash in surprise. Imogen would have felt sorry for them if she had the time.

She turned right across the road, crossing diagonally and praying a car wouldn’t hit her. On the other side, it was only a few steps to a dark side alley. She skid to a halt and ducked down it, disappearing into the shadows.

The HYDRA agent would have seen her, she knew as she hunkered down behind a bright blue dumpster and tried to catch some of her breath. She was going to have to face him sooner or later. But she had the advantage now, hidden in the shadows while he was still in plain sight, and he was one man now instead of a whole team. She checked her gun again.

The man came to the alley a lot slower than she had, trying to step quietly so as to surprise her. It might have worked, if there was any of the traffic this part of New York would usually garner. Unfortunately for him, no one liked driving down a street full of abandoned businesses and building sites.

He crept ever closer. Imogen forced a deep breath in and out of her lungs. She’d practised this with Clint. He’d use the corner of the building for protection, and the other dumpster, which she’d bypassed on her way in. To get there, he’d have to dash across the alley and expose himself.

And he would, because he had to if he wanted to flush her out of hiding.

 _Stay under cover, don’t expose yourself to shoot, don’t waste bullets you don’t have_. Clint would probably kill her if he knew what she was doing right now.

“I know you’re down there, Hacker Girl.” His voice was high and playful, meant to throw her off her guard. A shiver ran down her spine at the sound of it. She didn’t like it when they started talking, whether it was the annoying gloating and trash talk HYDRA encouraged from their agents, or creepy stuff like this. Better they just try to shoot her and be done with it.

She stopped the creeping feeling by reminding herself that he was an idiot who thought _she_ was the one hacking their accounts, not Ruby. Just a regular old henchman, like she used to be. If he was anything like she had been, taking him down wouldn’t be any problem at all.

“You shouldn’t have run,” he continued, voice fading back to normal. “We just wanted to ask some questions. Might have even offered you a job. Alex is – was – good like that.” Her stomach turned at the idea of joining HYDRA again, after everything she’d been through to renounce them. Will or his team would have her head on a stick by the next morning if she even dared.

He laughed at a joke only he had thought of. It echoed down the alley, and suddenly she couldn’t sit there completely blind anymore. Back pressed to the dirty plastic side of the dumpster, she craned her neck and peered around it towards the mouth of the alley. He was even more of an idiot than she’d given him credit for, she discovered; the HYDRA goon was standing in the middle of the street’s entrance, gun hanging casually from his fingers. No cover, no finger on the trigger. He didn’t even see her peeking out at him, focused entirely on the other dumpster.

She could do this. Another thing Clint had been teaching her; to shoot from instinct, instead of taking precious seconds to aim, or wasting ammo on wild shots. It was an archery thing. She wasn’t very good at it either, but…well, there wasn’t really any way out of here except shooting him, and she didn’t want to spend the whole night behind a dumpster.

Imogen took a breath, checked the gun, and steadied herself. She had an advantage here that she didn’t in the training exercises because she’d seen where he was standing already. Surely, _surely_ , she could make this shot.

Determined, she picked herself up, swung around the dumpster, and fired. _One, two, three_ , shot at an even tempo. By some miracle, two hit him right in the chest, one somewhere amidst his ribs (which was _not_ where she’d been aiming, but at least she’d hit her target), and the other lower down in his stomach. The third whizzed over his head as he dropped like a stone, a wet gargle escaping his mouth.

Astounded that she had actually done it, Imogen just stood there and stared; until he started shooting back wildly, making her duck and dive behind the dumpster again. A bullet grazed her arm as she fell, pain blooming across her skin, and then her shoulder found the pavement and jarred her whole body. That would hurt tomorrow, she thought to herself as she curled up well out of the path of any other bullets and waited for him to stop.

It didn’t take long for the gun to clutter to the pavement and the man to go silent. She dared a glance around the dumpster again, and only looked long enough to confirm he wasn’t going to be a problem anymore. Then, she turned and went the other way, pulling herself up and over a brick wall to avoid having to come any closer to him. She would never get used to dead people.

Home free, she finally stopped to wonder if Ruby had made it away safe, and what they would do to her if they caught her. HYDRA were killers, and would take her out without a second thought if that was the mood they were in, but INTEL had a high price on her head, if Ruby’s superstitions were to be believed. And if they gave her to INTEL, Imogen had a whole other problem.

But there was nothing she could do right now, so she just kept running.


	3. out of containment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> left this sitting complete in my doc for 2 weeks. oops.

It took her several blocks and twenty minutes of hard running and random turns to stop and remember that FRIDAY was in her pocket.

Imogen slowed to a walk somewhere in Hell’s Kitchen, over on the west side of the district where glimmers of the Hudson were visible between buildings. It was quiet and dark on this side of town, the streets surrounded by barely filled warehouses and buildings that struggled to find tenants to fill them. Half the streetlights didn’t even work. The aliens hadn’t made it this far out to wreck havoc on the local infrastructure, but that whole battle had still taken its toll. The whole of Manhattan had suffered from it, and dark places like Hell’s Kitchen were yet to get up off their knees and rebuild.

For a minute, she clutched at the phone in her pocket and struggled to breathe, gasping for air like she’d been underwater for an hour. She’d never run so far or so fast in her life, especially not from a fight. Her lungs burnt and her legs shook, and her arm ached horribly where the bullet had skidded across her skin. She took a second to pause under a streetlight and inspect it through the tatters of her sleeve and grimaced. She was going to have to find a doctor; one that wouldn’t ask too many questions.

Once she had recovered a bit, and the adrenaline had faded from her system, she leant against the wall of a dark building with boarded-up windows and pulled out her phone. “FRIDAY?” she asked it quietly, glancing around. The street was empty; not a HYDRA agent or anyone else to be seen.

“I’m here, Miss Haylock,” the AI’s distinctive voice replied. “What do you need?”

“Can you find out what happened to Ruby?” she asked, and then realised she was asking a very open-ended question, no matter how sophisticated the technology. “There was as fight, at the address I was sent, and HYDRA were chasing her-”

“I can locate Ruby Radford,” FRIDAY interrupted calmly. It only took her a few seconds to do so. “Twenty-five minutes ago, Ruby Radford was forced into a white van, which is currently driving west on the I-78 expressway. I can’t determine their location yet, but I can track their vehicle.”

I-78. That was the highway that ran from New York to somewhere in Pennsylvania, if Imogen remembered correctly. Which meant that the HYDRA van could be headed almost anywhere in New Jersey or Pennsylvania, if not even further afield. And how long could FRIDAY keep tabs on the car for? Would they switch vehicles, so that she would lose them? The new information didn’t put her mind at much ease – if anything, she felt worse now that she knew Ruby had definitely been caught and that they were leaving the city for destinations unknown.

“I’ll monitor the situation,” FRIDAY promised. “In the meantime, you should go to a doctor. I’m sending direction to a nearby emergency centre to your phone.”

“I can’t go to a hospital, FRIDAY,” Imogen said. “What am I supposed to tell them happened?”

“You could tell them the truth,” the AI suggested.

Imogen stared at her phone and wondered if FRIDAY was capable of sarcasm.

\-----

One hospital trip and several hours later, Imogen found herself parked on a street on the outskirts of Everett, Pennsylvania – a town which turned out to be nothing more than a short main street and one bar that was the only place open on a Sunday night. She’d passed it on her way to the town’s small industrial district – a different short street lined with car yards and hardware stores and the like. FRIDAY had informed her that HYDRA was set up in a big concrete warehouse-type structure that only looked a little out of place in its surroundings. It was surrounded by a tall fence, topped in barbed wire, and piles of building supplies filled the yard around it, which was the business they were using for cover, she guessed.

She’d driven past once, and then parked a little ways down the street in the shadow of a car repairs place. She’d meant to get out now, to sneak around a bit. Infiltrate, recover Ruby, escape. But now that she was here, she found herself hesitant to leave the car, to step into HYDRA’s territory. It had been a long time since she’d done anything like this, and she’d _never_ done this type of thing alone before. Once, she would have jumped in without a second thought to the danger of it; but now, she surprised herself by being hesitant to go, almost _afraid_ of failing.

Not that it was entirely stupid to be afraid. HYDRA had proven themselves again and again to be a fierce sort of enemy, and who knew the sort of things they would do to her if they found out who she was and what she had done in the past. It would be smarter anyway to stay in her car and do a little surveillance, she decided, and hunkered down for a while. She might be able to spot the guards that were inevitably lurking around the place. At the very least, she’d see what kind of people came and went from the place.

The first thing of note that she saw was a man that was playing guard on the roof. He ducked in and out of sight as he walked around, pausing occasionally to let his eyes sweep over the surrounding buildings and the street. If he saw her car, he didn’t seem alarmed by it. Soon after that, she spotted another guard on the ground doing rounds every half an hour and disappearing around the back of the building the rest of the time. Whoever else was based here remained inside, probably fast asleep like she should be.

Other than that, it was a long, boring watch that she just couldn’t seem to get the courage up to finish. An hour and a half in, her eyes began to drift shut. It had been a long day, and now it was closing in on 2am – she’d never been good at staying up all night.

Just as she shook herself awake for the third time, a sharp movement on the roof caught her eye. For a long minute, there was nothing else there, not even the guard strolling past. And then, the guard was hanging half over the edge of the roof, clawing at the hand around his throat.

Imogen bolted upright in her seat. The attacker was shrouded in shadow, except for the glint of something silver on his hand. He’d effectively silenced the guard by hanging him out over the drop; there was not so much as a squeak to alert the man on the ground, who’d just walked by that exact spot.

Just as quickly as they’d come they disappeared again. There was no reappearance of the solitary attacker or the guard in the next seven minutes, even though her eyes never moved from the spot. The half hour mark came and passed without the other guard appearing on his previously punctual rounds. He was also taken out by Mysterious Roof Figure, she guessed, just as an alarm started to blare from somewhere inside the building, its shrill ringing cutting through the quiet night like a knife. When she opened the door of her car, she could hear faint gunfire too, and the occasional scream as war was waged against HYDRA.

Imogen was all but ready to drive away and leave whoever was cleaning out the base to it when she remembered Ruby. For one horrible second, she considered leaving her to HYDRA in favour of getting out of the way of whatever was going down in there, but morale won over. She’d left Ruby to be dragged into custody by HYDRA. It was her responsibility to save her.

 _And I’m not scared of a little fighting,_ she told herself firmly as she listened to the sound of the alarm that pierced the cold night air, like she might be able to make herself believe it. She’d been getting into fights her whole life. She _wasn’t_ scared of them now that she’d stopped. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her gun, and got out of the car.

Her stomach twisted nervously as she crept down the road, closer and closer to the source of the commotion. The lights that had previously lit the property killing themselves as she moved, plunging the whole thing into darkness, only made her feel slightly better about it all. She was terribly outgunned for this match, with just a handgun and not much else to defend herself with. It was all she owned, seeing as she was supposed to be actively avoiding conflict (and hadn’t planned to get involved in anything tonight anyway).

At the front gate, she stopped to check if it would open, but the lock held firm, not to mention the thick chains that wrapped around the two gates to deter anyone from even trying to break in. She’d have to find the way that the guy on the roof had gotten in; so long as he hadn’t parachuted or somehow climbed the fence or something.

It wasn’t hard to find the place where’d they’d cut through the fence at the back of the unfenced block next door. The hole was twice as big as her, which was almost unnerving enough on its own, but she pushed through it anyway and crouched down in the long grass on the other side.

The place was still pitch black, the lights apparently out for good now, and mostly silent, except for the occasional, brief rattle of gunfire. The intruder (or more likely, intruders) was winning, if the prolonged conflict was anything to go by. Not that she had any time to think about that because the fact that there _was_ still conflict made her insides feel like someone had wrapped a cold fist around them. This was a bad idea…but she had to get Ruby. And she couldn’t just leave it to these people who could just be another kind of evil, like INTEL. That was just the same as abandoning her.

Fingers curled around her gun, Imogen pushed down the feeling of trepidation and darted across the yard to a back door with a busted lock, letting herself in. The room beyond was completely overturned, table flipped, chairs flung across the room, and several computer monitors smashed and either dead or showing the black and white fuzz of a lost connection. There was one person in the corner of the room, a man that she assumed was the guard on the ground from the clothes he was wearing. He lay in a pool of his own blood on the other side of the table, eyes glazed over. She backed away hastily and went for the door that led to the rest of the base.

Instead of a hallway or another room, she was taken to a staircase leading down into the ground. There was another body on the second flight, a woman staring at the wall across from her. Imogen skirted around her too, silently reminding herself that everyone here worked for HYDRA. When faced with their bodies, it wasn’t as convincing as she’d hoped.

Downstairs there was a hallway leading left and right, partially lit by long strips of emergency lighting. The sound of fighting to the left encouraged her to turn right. In the maze of corridors, beyond, she found three laboratories, several empty dormitories, and what looked like a medical ward. Two patients were visible from the door, sleeping peacefully with only the gentle beeping of whatever machines they were hooked up to for company. She almost passed them by, until she wondered who else might be in there and doubled back to make sure Ruby hadn’t become a science experiment, with her gift for throwing people into walls.

Inside the ward was surprisingly quiet, despite the gunshots echoing through the halls. There were five patients in all, with a white curtain between each. Not one of them had woken up; though whether that was due to the thickness of the walls or whatever drugs were dripping slowly into their system, Imogen couldn’t tell.

There were no doctors or nurses around to watch over them, and all five patients were sleeping like the dead, but still she felt compelled to step quietly and breathe lightly as she crept through the dark room, peering at each of their faces in turn. Three were men with short hair and bigger builds than Ruby had ever possessed. She didn’t even need to see their faces to know to pass them by. The two women were next to each other, with just a curtain between them. One had pale skin, and black hair that fanned across her pillow, but the other was dark-skinned, with a frizz of hair that stood out boldly against the white sheets of her bed…

Imogen froze, heart in her throat. She crept to the end of the bed. And then her heart sank again, because the face in the bed was unfamiliar.

Ruby was not here. Wherever she was, it wasn’t a lab or a hospital (well, not one in this wing, anyway).

Back out in the hall, it took her a minute to realise that everything had gone silent. She turned to look back the way she had come, towards where they had been fighting, but she couldn’t see or hear anyone sweeping the base. She might have a little time to get out then, before the winners came looking for survivors. If there was one thing she didn’t want, it was to be confused for a HYDRA agent – or to be discovered by HYDRA themselves, if they were the victorious side in this skirmish.

A click and a whirl behind her alerted her to her next problem.

Imogen turned fast, but the man behind her was faster, pressing a gun to her forehead before she even caught a glimpse of his face. The weapon was cold and hard against her skin, a painful reminder of how stupid it had been to come in here and get herself in this situation. The face behind it was scruffy and severe, which surprised her. She’d been expecting the usual smart-mouthed grunt types that every shady organisation liked to employ, but this man was mute and quite possibly homeless, from the state of his clothes.

Before she could stare too much, the gun pressed harder into her skull and his finger twitched against the trigger. Her own gun slipped from her fingers. The clattering as it hit the ground echoed loudly through the silent halls, making her flinch. The man just looked confused.

“Please don’t shoot me,” she said, putting her hands up in the air. “I-I’m not…I’m just looking for my friend. They took her.” He wasn’t HYDRA, she had decided. They were many things, but none of them looked so unkempt. No one from HYDRA would be fighting in a hoodie that was stained and dirty and smelt like it hadn’t been washed in a couple of weeks. He had to be one of the people that had broken in, and if he was one of them then that meant she might be able to convince him they were on the same side. If he ever talked, that is.

His brow furrowed slowly as he considered her story. There was a wariness in his eyes too, like he thought she might do something to turn the situation to her advantage – like there was something she _could_ do to get the upper hand while he had a gun to her head. If there was, it wasn’t a trick she knew. And then he spoke.

“Ruby Radford?” he asked, in a hoarse voice that rasped and rattled in his throat. His expression was strange, like the sound of his own voice surprised him.

“Yes!” Imogen answered, and the intensity of her voice made his whole body tense, like he was ready to run or fight. She barely dared breathe, all too aware of his finger held tight against the trigger.

“Go home,” he said. “She’ll be safe.” The gun fell away from her forehead. Her relief was so great that her legs almost fell out from under her. He stepped back, putting some space between them, and stared at her again.

 _Was this the man that had been following Ruby around?_ The thought popped into her head unbidden as they stared at each other, neither willing to make the first move in their tentative stalemate. He certainly wasn’t HYDRA. And she hadn’t seen any other people that might have been with him. Couldn’t hear any either; the base was eerily quiet now, the life of the place slowly slipping away into the dark.

“Go,” the man said again, more insistent this time and breaking her train of thought. Imogen did not hesitate to obey, taking two steps backwards, and when he didn’t shoot her immediately, turning and fleeing as fast as her legs would carry her.

By some miracle, he didn’t shoot her the moment she turned her back on him, but let her run away free. As she turned a corner, she heard a gunshot and stopped dead, turning to see if he had followed her. But no, it was just an echo from further in the base. Four more followed it, one for every person sleeping in the medical ward. She ran again, and tried not to think about it.

As she reached the top of the stairs and felt the cold breeze that had blown the door open, she realised she’d left half of the base unexplored. She couldn’t bring herself to go back down there though; she had half a feeling that she’d been left alive on a whim, not because that man was the merciful type. If she met him again, he’d probably shoot her without a second thought. And who knew how many other people he had down there, or how ruthless they would be if she ran into them.

Imogen slowed to a walk through the security room, stopping in the shadow of the doorway to check outside for any friends of the man downstairs. The whole place was deserted. If it wasn’t nigh on impossible that one man could take out all of HYDRA, she could have sworn he was the only other person on the property.

Still, she ran at full speed across the yard, ready to duck for cover if bullets began to fly. Only when she’d wriggled through the fence, ripping her jacket on the way, and was safe in the shadows next door did she stop to breathe and to look back again. No one was there like she was expecting. Not even the man she’d run into downstairs. Breathing hard, she gave herself a minute to lean against the building and watch and recover. She was fit enough to run like she had and still be able to fight but adrenaline and panic had hit her hard the moment she’d turned her back on him and had held her tightly all the way out. Only now in the shelter of a different building and assured no one was watching her did she feel them fade away, leaving her with a frantic heart and empty lungs.

When she felt like she was ready to move again, she went to her car, moving slowly from shadow to shadow with one eye on the HYDRA building at all times. Nothing stirred except for the trees that lined the road, muttering loudly in the wild breeze. They did nothing to calm her nerves. She had a feeling nothing would, until she was safe back in New York.


	4. duty

Imogen was halfway to the R&D labs, walking down a long hall that was filled with the deep gold light of the late afternoon sun, when a blur of blue swept past her and then circled around to fall into step beside her.

She only flinched when Pietro Maximoff appeared in her peripheral vision, and for that she was quite pleased with herself. Being around all sorts of weird and unexpected people like the Avengers had killed any opportunity for them to really surprise her these days. When one made a habit of walking through walls rather than doors, you got used to people randomly appearing pretty quick.

What did surprise her was that Pietro was even _here_ , several floors below where he should be, and walking along next to her like he belonged there. Their last meeting hadn’t been exactly…pleasant, and she hadn’t seen nor heard anything of him in the five days since. So why was he suddenly down in SI, stalking her? She’d figured he would never speak to her again, after what he had said at the party, and what she had spat back when she’d rejected his apology.

“It is late for you to be here,” Pietro commented casually. “I thought you came only in the morning.”

Imogen eyed him suspiciously. “Are you stalking me?” she asked, because it was the only logical explanation for his knowing that she had been working early morning shifts all week.

“No,” he claimed, screwing his nose up like she’d offended him. “I see you around sometimes. But only in the mornings.”

“I’m at work in the morning,” she half-heartedly tried to explain. “I’m not working now.”

“You like working so much, you walk around here when you don’t have to?” he questioned, and she looked at him and wondered when she’d given him permission to tease her.

“ _No_ ,” she huffed, like he should already know this; which was entirely unreasonable, but she didn’t feel like being fair to him. “I have a meeting.”

He fell silent for a moment, lips pressed together like he wasn’t happy with her answer. It took him a few seconds to figure out what was bothering him. “This is where all the scientists are,” he said, as observant as ever.

Imogen shrugged. “And I have a meeting with scientists. So?”

“Why?”

“Why do you care?” she snapped and he stopped in his tracks, startled by the sudden change in her tone.

“I don’t,” he replied off-handedly, a little put-out. “I’m just _bored_. I can go, if you hate me so much.”

She stared at him like he was an idiot. Which he was, as far as she was concerned. “I don’t hate you,” she replied slowly. “I don’t even know you. _You_ were the one who said you didn’t need friends. So, bye.” She turned on her heel and continued on her way, twice as fast as she’d been walking before. The idea of him standing there in the hallway, left hanging, was pretty satisfactory.

Until he appeared in front of her, so suddenly that she almost ran into him before she realised he was there. His sneakers left a long, black scuff mark on the otherwise spotless floor. Someone was _not_ going to be happy about that later.

She rocked back on her heels in surprise. “How are you _doing_ that?” she asked in exasperation.

Pietro shrugged. “I am very fast,” he said, which wasn’t much of an answer at all. “And I want you to listen to me.”

“What else is there to say?” Imogen snapped and crossed her arms. “You don’t like America, and you don’t want friends. Neither do I. So you leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone, and everyone will be happy.”

He grit his teeth in frustration, looking across the hall over her head as he put together his reply. “You don’t mean that,” he said slowly, when he was ready. “I wish you would forget – I told you, I’m sorry for saying these things. I wish you would listen.”

“If you didn’t mean it, why did you bother saying it in the first place?” she shot back.

Pietro huffed an angry sigh. “I was just mad at Stark,” he explained. “I tell him to leave me alone, and then he tries to make me meet so many new people…” He shrugged. “He doesn’t know how to stop, you know? And I see you and think, _this must be one of his stupid friends_ , but I know now, you are not so much his friend at all.”

“So now it’s okay to talk to me?” she asked and then scoffed, much to Pietro’s dismay. “Why do you hate him so much anyway?”

“It’s a long story,” he muttered, and didn’t offer much else.

Imogen just looked at him for a moment, eyebrows raised. “Alright then,” she said when she was sure he wouldn’t say anything else. She ducked around him and continued on her way just like she had before, ignoring the way he fell into step with her in the same instance.

“Can we start again?” he asked as they walked, like she wasn’t trying very hard to pretend he didn’t exist. “Without Stark?”

Despite herself, Imogen couldn’t help but take the bait. “Are you just going to insult me again?” she asked.

Pietro grinned. “Why would I do this?” he asked and then strode out ahead of her, spinning on his heel so that he could walk backwards. Another black mark on the floor. Thank _god_ she wasn’t a cleaner.

“Hello,” he said, unable to control the lazy grin that kept edging out across his face. “My name is Pietro. Who are you?”

“This is so dumb,” she replied dryly.

Pietro was not put off. “Just do it,” he insisted.

Imogen rolled her eyes at him. “ _My name is Imogen,_ ” she replied, overdramatic and half-heartedly trying to copy his accent.

“Nice to meet you,” he said and made her shake his hand before he would turn around and walk normally again. He fell into step with her easily, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Do you work here?” he asked innocently, still playing this dumb game where they pretend not to know each other. Imogen wondered how long he would keep it up for.

“I do,” she answered, and then added. “Do _you_ work here?” in the most upbeat and enthusiastic voice she could muster. Rather than being annoyed, Pietro looked delighted that she was actually playing along.

“Do I _look_ like I would work for Stark?” he retorted.

“No,” Imogen answered honestly. “You look like a teenager who decided to dye his own hair and did a terrible job.”

“What?” His smile vanished as he ran a hand through his hair self-conciously. “It’s a nice colour,” he said defensively. “And I am _not_ a _teenager_.”

No, she decided, he didn’t _look_ like a teenager at all, no matter the jokes she made. “How old are you?” she asked, and chose not to make any further comments on the state of his hair.

“Twenty one,” he told her very definitely, like she might try to argue the point with him. She did nothing of the sort. “How old are _you_?”

“Twenty three,” she answered.

He laughed at her. “Old,” he said, like he was trying to be insulting.

Imogen rolled her eyes and stopped outside the door to Lab 43, standing on her tiptoes to peer through the little window set high in the door. Both the scientists were in there, heads bent together over a bunch of papers on the table they shared in the centre of the room. “Old and _short_ ,” Pietro said behind her. She stood back properly on the ground and glared at him.

“Funny,” she spat in a tone that said he wasn’t very funny at all.

He gave her a wicked grin. “I will see you tomorrow?” he asked as she opened the door, and then sped away before she even had a chance to answer. She took the moment of silence as a chance to roll her eyes one last time before entering the lab.

Jin was the first one to look up, a smile splitting her lips as Imogen closed the door behind her. “Come in, come in!” she said in way of greeting and beckoned Imogen over to their workspace. On the other side of the table, Raul glanced up and nodded in greeting, and then went back to reading whatever report currently held his interest.

“You said you wanted to see me today?” Imogen asked as she walked across the room, stopping at the end of the table with one scientist to each side of her.

Jin nodded and rifled through her papers. Not for the first time, Imogen wondered how they could make sense of anything they did when they kept nothing in order. “We just wanted to check in, mostly,” Jin said, in a voice that was only a little clipped by her accent. She’d been working hard on her English, Imogen knew, and it was paying off. “How did the last treatment work? Have you noticed any changes?”

Imogen thought about it. Their ‘treatment’ – a cocktail of chemicals and god knows what else shot straight into her vein – had been two weeks ago, before Stark’s party and her mad weekend chasing Ruby and the fruitless searching she’d done since then. She hadn’t had time to properly pay attention to the whole ice thing, between all of the other stuff she’d had going on.

“It’s been working, I think,” she decided finally. “There’s been less ice on my hands, and I can almost control it sometimes.” She placed her hands on the edge of the table so that they could see them, bereft of the ice that plagued her.

“Good!” Jin said brightly. “That means we’re getting closer. Raul?”

Across the table, the biologist finally looked up from the report he was reading. “Yes,” he said, slower and calmer than upbeat Jin. “Very good.”

“Does emotion still affect your ability to control it?” Jin asked, when it was clear Raul didn’t have anything more to say.

“Yes,” Imogen admitted. “When I’m angry or annoyed still, mostly.”

“Interesting,” Jin shuffled her papers again to find a pen, and scribbled something down in the nearest available margin.

“I need a blood sample,” Raul interjected while his partner was busy. “And then you can come back next Friday, maybe? I think we’ll have some ideas by then.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot about that,” Jin said and put down her pen, crossing the room to retrieve her chair from her desk. “Here, sit. It’ll take like, five seconds.”

She set the chair down next to the big table, and Imogen did as she was instructed.

“Thankyou, Jin,” Raul said and went back to his reading. From the other side of the room, Jin hummed in reply, busy gathering all the things she would need from their mess of equipment. Imogen sat quietly until she returning, playing absentmindedly with her phone while she waited.

“So, Imogen,” Jin said as she returned, placing all of her equipment on the table. “I thought I heard a boy outside with you before? Is there something you want to tell us?” She gave Imogen a crafty grin as she picked up a large needle. Imogen pulled a face and turned her eyes away.

“For the record,” Raul put in across the table without looking up. “ _We_ are not _all_ interested in gossip.”

“Fine,” Jin sniffed dramatically. “Is there anything you want to tell _me_?”

“Nope,” Imogen said, staring very determinedly at the wall instead of Jin as the needle bit through her skin. “It was just this guy I met the other day at Tony’s party. He came to apologise for being an ass.”

“Well that’s not exciting,” Jin said, and it almost sounded like she was scolding Imogen. “Wait – it’s not that boy that came down from the Avengers compound, is it? With the white hair?”

“It is, yeah,” Imogen desperately wanted to glance at Jin, to see exactly where this conversation was going, but forced herself not to. She really didn’t want to look at the needle in her arm.

“He was here last week,” was all Jin said though, so nonchalant that it was almost suspicious. “Raul asked to see any other people Mr Stark knew that were artificially enhanced, for his research? So that boy come down to see us…” She paused for a moment, and then continued. “We said people only had to come if they wanted to, but he didn’t seem very happy to be here. Didn’t want to answer questions or anything.”

“His sister was nice,” Raul added casually. “She was almost _excited_ to help.”

“Wait,” Imogen said, and chanced a glance at Jin in surprise. “They’re… _enhanced_? They weren’t like, born like that or anything?”

“No one is just _born_ like that,” Raul scoffed. Jin shot him a look.

“They’re enhanced,” she confirmed, and gently removed the needle from Imogen’s arm. “A bit like you, actually; they-”

“They will have to tell you themselves,” Raul put in pointedly, cutting off Jin. “Because if we told you, that would be _illegal_.”

“Oh, be quiet,” Jin tutted, scowling at him over her shoulder. “He didn’t sign anything to say I couldn’t gossip about him.”

“He didn’t sign anything to say you _could_ , either,” Raul argued. Jin passed Imogen the little ball of gauze she had pressed against her arm and turned to gather up her stuff.

“You’re no fun,” she told Raul pettily and marched across the room with her samples and equipment.

“And you have no respect for our integrity as scientists,” Raul replied, as calm as ever. Jin made a noise of disagreement from across the room but didn’t deign to answer.

“I should go,” Imogen said and stood, edging towards the door.

“You should sit for at least fifteen minutes,” Raul replied, fixing his gaze on her.

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted, because she could hear another snide comment brewing on Jin’s side of the room. “I’m always fine. It’ll take me fifteen minutes to get out of the building anyway, if I faint someone will be around to see me.”

Raul considered it, and then shrugged and gestured towards the door. “Go then,” he sighed, and didn’t turn to see Jin glaring at him from the back of the room.

“See you on Friday,” Imogen said and escaped, before they could start arguing about integrity or whatever it was Jin was winding up for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> didn't fact-check this bros. also I'm too skinny to ever give blood so I have no idea how that goes. it's cool though. leave a comment?


	5. Lost And Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why work on one thing at a time when you could just sporadically update random shit whenever you feel like it?

It was a _thing_ now, apparently – she assumed Ruby was dead, and then a few days later, Ruby would text her a random address and demand she come immediately and alone.

That was how Imogen found herself outside a sprawling apartment complex two blocks from Prospect Park late on a Sunday evening. She was kind of surprised to see the tidy flowerbeds and circling walkways that surrounded the building, seeing as she’d been expecting another building site, or an abandoned hovel or something. This place was so suburban and respectable, she almost wondered if she’d gotten the wrong address.

Until she walked in the front door and found Ruby sitting at the foot of the stairs, scrolling through something on a phone with her chin in her hand.

“You really are alive,” Imogen said as she closed the door behind her. Ruby didn’t even look up.

“No thanks to you,” she replied as she typed something into her phone.

“I _tried_ ,” Imogen protested. “I kind of had my own problem to deal with when HYDRA were chasing us, and I followed them to Pennsylvania, but-”

“But I was already gone?” Ruby finished for her.

“ _But_ some weird guy put a gun to my head and told me you were safe.”

Ruby looked up in surprise. “You saw the Soldier?” she asked. “The guy I told you was following me?”

Imogen shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m guessing it was him. Definitely wasn’t HYDRA, anyway.”

Slipping her phone into her pocket, Ruby stood slowly. “Sorry for being mad at you,” she said sheepishly. “I didn’t realise you even came.”

Uncomfortable, Imogen turned her gaze up the stairs to avoid Ruby’s eyes. “Why am I here?” she asked.

“Oh!” Ruby exclaimed, and hopped down to the last couple of stairs. “I need your help with something.”

“You still want me to help you find that guy and fight HYDRA?” Imogen did look at Ruby now, surprised and a little annoyed. “No thanks. I’m _really_ not doing that anymore, after the whole thing in Pennsylvania.”

“What?” Ruby screwed her face up in confusion. “No, listen, I’m way past that. Come upstairs.” She climbed the first few steps, and then turned to find Imogen still standing at the bottom, looking up the stairs suspiciously. “Coming?” she prompted.

“No offense, but every time you take me somewhere, we get jumped and you die,” Imogen pointed out dryly.

Ruby scoffed. “Third time lucky,” she said. Imogen raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “ _Promise_.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Imogen sighed and followed her upstairs. She still felt like this was a bad idea. All of Ruby’s ideas were bad. HYDRA was probably tracking her phone or something right now, ready to close in.

At the top of the stairs, Ruby turned left down a long hallway and stopped at the third door along, producing a key from one of her pockets. “Be quiet for a minute, until he gets used to you being there,” she instructed in a hushed voice as she turned the key in the lock. Annoyance surged through Imogen’s mind; of _course_ Ruby had something weird or dangerous going on up here. Had she really expected anything less?

Before she could ask what the other girl meant, Ruby stepped through the door and into the apartment, leaving her with no choice but to follow. Huffing an annoyed breath, Imogen followed. She stepped into a little kitchen and living room that was more modern than even her own apartment over in Bed-Stuy, and tastefully furnished. Hardwood floors, polished counters, dark green sofas that looked almost new. Ruby was filling a chipped mug with water from the sink to the right, while straight ahead-

Imogen did a double take, stopping short just inside the door. In the centre of the living room sat the man that had held a gun to her head in Pennsylvania. He was surrounded by weapons, humming something softly under his breath as he disassembled a gun with quick, practised fingers.

Without a word, she turned and fled back to the hallway, where she couldn’t see him unless she looked through the door.

“Imogen?” Ruby called after her and then, when she didn’t respond, followed her out into the hall, closing the door behind her. “What are you-”

“What the _hell_ is _he_ doing in there?” Imogen asked.

Ruby frowned, like it hadn’t dawned on her that having a murderous homeless man in her living room was weird. “He’s cleaning his weapons, I think,” she replied dumbly. “I don’t know. He does it all the time.”

“No, Ruby.” Imogen shook her head in frustration, trying to figure out how she was going to go about this. “Why is he _here_ , why are you _with_ him.”

“I don’t know, he just showed up!” Ruby said, and her voice grew quieter. “He saved me from HYDRA and disappeared, I high-tailed it back to New York, set myself up in this place, and then he climbed in through the window one night and decided he lives here too!”

“And you only thought to tell me this _now_? It’s been a whole week since then!”

“He took all of my stuff away!” Ruby argued. “Wouldn’t let me leave or anything until the other day when he finally ran out of emergency army meals or whatever they are. Took me three days to even convince him to let you come here.”

“Okay.” Imogen forced herself to stop and take a deep breath, in and out. “And what _exactly_ am I supposed to help you with now that I’m here?”

“With _him_!” Ruby gestured towards the door. “What am I supposed to do with him?”

Imogen threw her hands in the air helplessly. “I don’t know! Take him and destroy HYDRA or something; isn’t that what you wanted to do anyway?”

“Yeah, but…he’s…” Ruby struggled to find the words, and then huffed in annoyance and gave up, grabbing Imogen’s arm. “Just come and see,” she said, and dragged her back through the door.

The man was in the kitchen now, standing all-too-innocently by the sink with Ruby’s mug cradled carefully between his hands. One of them was silver, Imogen noticed immediately. Metal. Her eyes traced upwards, following the neat metal plates of the arm to the big red star on his shoulder, half-hidden under the sleeve of his tattered t-shirt.

“Ruby,” she said in alarm and grabbed Ruby’s wrist tightly, pulling her right back out into the hallway again.

“Ow!” Ruby said, wrenching her arm out of Imogen’s grip as she shut the door behind them again. “Can you stop? You’re going to freak him out.”

“Oh, yeah, _I’m_ going to freak _him_ out,” Imogen scoffed, feeling significantly freaked out by the man in Ruby’s apartment. “Ruby, that’s the _Winter Soldier_ , you know that?”

“What? No,” Ruby replied. “No, that’s Bucky Barnes. Who’s the Winter Soldier?”

“Bu-” Imogen sputtered in disbelief, and then stopped to compose herself…and try to figure out what the _hell_ Ruby was talking about. “Bucky Barnes like Captain America, Howling Commandos, Bucky Barnes?”

Something shattered inside the apartment. Distracted by the noise, Ruby turned to go back inside. Imogen caught her before she could go anywhere. “Explain first,” she demanded.

Ruby pulled a face, but obliged. “I did a facial recognition search,” she said. “And like…I mean, if you look at him the right way, you can see it. He’s a bit older than the museum photos, but-”

“ _A bit older_? Ruby, Bucky Barnes is dead!”

“Last time you thought someone was dead, it was me, and I’m still here!”

“You weren’t killed in World War Two!”

Ruby hesitated. “Well, it sounds dumb when you put it like _that_ ,” she huffed and crossed her arms, like it was all Imogen’s fault.

“That’s because it _is_ dumb, Ruby!” Imogen insisted.

“No it isn’t!” Ruby glared at her. “If Captain America could be frozen for like, seventy years or whatever, why couldn’t he be too?”

 _Frozen,_ Imogen repeated in her head, and something clicked, memories stirring like a jar being opened. Her mother had worked on the Winter Soldier, HYDRA’s files her told her that the day she’d found out that HYDRA had killed her parents. Her mother had worked extensively in cryogenics for HYDRA too, for unknown purposes – had used her children for experiments in creating human antifreeze. Imogen had always assumed the two projects were separate things; were they one and the same?

Had her mother helped to turn an American icon into a lethal assassin, and kept him preserved until the fall of HYDRA had unwittingly freed him?

 _No_ , she told herself, and shook the thought away before she could let it convince her. The whole theory was _nuts_. Bucky Barnes had fallen from a train into a ravine in Austria a very long time ago, and no one could survive that.

“So?” Ruby prompted, and Imogen realised she’d been silent for several seconds too long.

“I don’t know,” she said eventually. Ruby rolled her eyes, unhappy with the lacklustre answer. “I don’t know what you’re going to do about him either,” Imogen added, her voice dropping again in case he could hear them.

“What would _you_ do, if he appeared in your house?” Ruby asked insistently.

Imogen considered the question, glancing towards the door like she’d be able to see through it to the man on the other side. “Get him some new clothes,” she said, nose wrinkling at the thought of the tatty rag he was wearing, and the smell of them. “And food. No one should have to survive off ration packets.”

“And then?” Ruby presses, insistent.

Imogen threw her hands in the air, looking around uselessly like there was something around that would tell her just what she’s supposed to do. There was nothing around, of course, no helpful posters or anything to say _hey, are you wondering what to do with your brainwashed ex-HYDRA assassin roommate?_ It’s not something she’d covered in SHIELD basic training either, surprisingly enough, or in Clint’s made-up classes over the last year.

She checked her watch. Ten o’clock. She had work in the morning, six AM sharp. “Um,” she said, like something smart might come out of her mouth of its own volition, and came up blank. Checked her watch again. “Give me half an hour,” she told Ruby, backing up towards the stairs. “I’ll get some clothes and dinner and…think about it.”

“ _Please_ tell me you’ll come back,” Ruby all but begged.

“I’m coming back,” Imogen promised, and then escaped down the stairs, before she could be forced to keep that promise.

\------

When she returned, the door to the apartment was sitting ajar, and Ruby was curled up on one sofa. The Winter Soldier was perched awkwardly on the other one, ramrod straight as he pretended to watch whatever was playing quietly on the TV. Imogen let herself in and closed the door behind her, before crossing the room quietly to dump her bag of supplies on the sofa next to Ruby, one eye on the Soldier. He didn’t move a muscle, focused on something she wasn’t entirely convinced was the TV.

“What’s this?” Ruby asked, pulling the bag over to examine its contents.

“Clothes, for him,” Imogen replied, gesturing towards the Soldier. “And takeout. If he wants to eat MREs over Chinese, there’s nothing we can do to help him.”

Ruby huffed a laugh, and pulled the clothes out of the bag. Placing them on her lap, she turned to the Soldier. “Bucky…?” she said softly, trying to catch his attention. Her voice was steady and gentle, but her eyes belied her fear; she was afraid of him, this strange man that had showed up out of nowhere. As well she should be – everyone had heard of the Winter Soldier, by now, the things HYDRA’s files had admitted to him doing.

The man flinched at the name, but didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge them. “Barnes?” Ruby tried again. No reaction this time, not even the flinch. Like he didn’t even know the name. Ruby turned to Imogen helplessly.

“I can’t…I don’t know how to talk to him,” she said, lowering her voice a little, like he might not hear them if they just talked quietly. “He doesn’t listen to anything I say. And I don’t think he’s going to change his clothes just because we tell him to.”

Imogen considered it, glancing between Ruby and the Soldier several times. “Let me try,” she said, and Ruby handed over the neat pile of clothes without question. Though it felt like the most insane thing to do, knowing who this man was and just a little bit of his history, Imogen took the pile of clothes, squared her shoulders, and marched herself across the room to stand in between his line of sight and the TV he was supposedly staring at. As she expected, his eyes didn’t move, fixed not on the news but on some unseen middle distance she couldn’t hope to interrupt. She took a breath.

“Soldier!” she barked, loud and demanding, almost angry, except that she had no heat to put behind it. It was enough anyway; at the sound of her voice, the man jumped and straightened, eyes snapping upwards to her face.

She held out the clothes. “Take these,” she told him firmly, like she would tell any of the boys on her security team at work to do something, when they were annoying her. The Soldier stared at her blankly, metal hand flexing, fingers curling in and out. She waited, almost too nervous to breathe.

Slowly, with jerky movements suited more to a robot than a man, he stood up and reached out to take the clothes. His metal fingers brushed hers, cold and hard; she snatched her hand away, stumbling back a step, ice creeping slowly across the skin of her fingers. The Soldier stared at her curiously.

Shaking herself, Imogen pointed to the bathroom. “Take a shower,” she told him, trying to use the same authoritative voice as before. “And put those clothes on.”

He looked down at the clothes in his hands, and back at her, so slowly that she thought for a second that maybe this was too many instructions for him. She wasn’t really sure what to make of him; this was supposed to be a deadly assassin, HYDRA’s most valuable weapon…but he didn’t understand how to take a shower?

Just as she was about to turn to Ruby for assistance, for any kind of idea, something seemed to click into place in his head. Without any sort of warning or acknowledgement, he turned and shuffled off towards the bathroom, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

“How did you do that?” Ruby hissed as soon as he was gone.

Imogen let out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding and slumped down in the Soldier’s seat, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I just figured…I mean, he’s military, isn’t he? Probably?”

“If he’s _Bucky Barnes_ , yes,” Ruby answered insistently, and Imogen would almost think she was saying it just to be annoying if her face wasn’t dead serious.

“Ruby,” she sighed, biting back frustration. “Bucky Barnes is _dead_ , he can’t be-”

“No, _listen_ ,” Ruby cut across her. “I did some reading while you were gone, and I’m pretty sure they’re the same person. Barnes and the Winter Soldier.” She paused, and then added, “The shit this guy has done, by the way…”

“I know,” Imogen replied. “I’ve read the files. There was a manhunt for him last year, the Avengers were all over it.”

“Yeah, I _know_ ,” Ruby said. “And do you know which Avenger was the _most_ involved in the whole thing?” She waited expectantly, until Imogen shook her head. “ _Captain America_.” She sat back smugly, arms crossed over her chest like she thought she deserved an award.

“You’re insane,” Imogen told her dryly and leaned over to grab the bag of Chinese food, pulling out a container at random.

“And you’re _cynical_ ,” Ruby bit back. “If you’d just listen to me for five seconds-”

“What, and get sucked into your crazy theories? No.” Imogen shook her head and popped the lid off her takeout.

“My theories aren’t _crazy_ ,” Ruby insisted. “They’re very well researched, thanks very much.”

“Well researched?” Imogen questioned. “You’re a hacker.”

“And you’re a high school dropout! I think, of the two, I’m much more likely to know how to do research.”

Imogen paused, staring at Ruby. “How do you know that?” she asked, dangerously quiet.

Ruby stared back, as if trying to judge where they stand now. “I’m a hacker,” she said eventually, in way of explanation.

“So, what,” Imogen replied. “You go digging through my whole life?”

“Uh…yes?” Ruby frowned, like this was the obvious and unproblematic answer. “I already told you, I’ve been keeping tabs on you, remember? Also, I’m dead, and you’re out there living your life. I need something to keep me busy.”

Imogen stared at her food, trying to swallow down this new information. A couple of years ago she would have jumped on Ruby right now, expressed her displeasure by burying her fist in the girl’s teeth or something. She still felt the urge to do so now, really, but she’d been trying to be more reasonable these days so instead, she took a deep breath and picked up her fork.

“Stop stalking me,” she said, in the sort of voice that said this was not a request, and filled her mouth with rice and chicken.

Ruby fell into a sullen silence, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with this order. Imogen refused to acknowledge her further, focusing on her food and the television. Ten minutes passed, the shower hissing quietly in the background.

They sat in tense silence, watching the TV, until the bathroom door clicked and creaked open again, and the Soldier returned.

Imogen looked up first, fork halfway to her mouth, and promptly dropped her rice straight back into the container in her lap. He was still scruffy and rugged-looking, still unshaven and sporting dark circles under his eyes, but he looked like an actual, civilised human being now, as he padded across the room in bare feet and sat down awkwardly at the other end of Imogen’s sofa. He was half as scary now too, dressed in soft track pants and a large Hawkeye shirt she’d found in a box of Clint’s stuff that still remained in her apartment. Twice as brave now, she reached forward to pick up another container of food from the coffee table and dropped it in his lap, holding out a fork for him to take.

“Eat,” she instructed in a firm voice. He looked at her, and the food, and then took the plastic fork carefully in his metal fingers and set about taking the lid off the container, face screwed up in concentration.

“I don’t…I don’t know how you do that,” Ruby said in wonder, watching with eyes wide.

Imogen shrugged and put her own food down on the table, snapping the lid back into place. “You’ll figure it out,” she replied and stood and stretched, checking the time again. Eleven thirty. Not terrible, but not exactly a good night’s sleep either, not by the time she would get home.

“Wait,” Ruby said. “You’re not _leaving_ , are you?”

“It’s almost midnight,” Imogen pointed out. “And I have work in the morning.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ruby waved dismissively. “But…you can’t leave me here. Alone. With him.”

“Why not?” Imogen asked.

Ruby stared at her like she was crazy. “What do I do with him?” she asked, like the Soldier wasn’t sitting right there between them.

“I don’t know!” Imogen threw a hand in the air, uncaring. “Put him to bed, and do some more research. He’ll listen to you if you’re more direct.”

“ _Put him to bed_?” Ruby echoed. Imogen wondered if she’d actually heard anything past that. “Like a – how-” She seemed lost for words for a second, floundering while she tried to decide where to start. “Imogen, I don’t think he _sleeps_.”

Imogen shrugged. “Tell him to guard the door or something then, I don’t know,” she said, quickly running out of care to give. “Leave the TV on for him. Looks like he likes watching it.” She edged towards the door, trying to escape, Ruby looking at her hopelessly.

“You can’t stay?” the other girl asked; and technically, Imogen _could_ , but she didn’t waver.

“No,” she said, very definitely. “I’m going home. You’ll be fine.”

“Will you come back tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” She was so close to escape, the door almost within reach. “I’ve got other stuff to do tomorrow.” That was a lie. She didn’t feel bad about it. Ruby still wasn’t satisfied anyway.

“I’m going to text you if anything goes wrong,” she told Imogen. “You better text me back.”

“Okay,” Imogen agreed, her hand on the doorknob.

“And if I find anything else about the Winter Soldier.”

“Okay.”

There was a pause, where Ruby seemed to be searching for anything else to say, and thing else that might make her feel better. “Okay,” she echoed eventually, when she came up with nothing else.

“Okay,” Imogen said one more time. “Bye then.” She didn’t even wait for Ruby’s return farewell, just slipped out the door and shut it behind her as fast as she could, heaving a deep breath only once she was out in the hallway and free.

Just like that, she was back in the spy business, and probably back on HYDRA’s radar.

Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my writeblr at apocalyvse.tumblr.com! 
> 
> please don't forget to leave a comment! <3


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